


Bill and Dipper Go Pet Shopping

by doodlelover



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Demonic Pet Shopping, Dipper is somewhat of an asshole, Humor, M/M, So is Bill but that's normal, shameless fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2015-10-28
Packaged: 2018-04-28 14:00:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5093381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doodlelover/pseuds/doodlelover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After several failed attempts, Bill finally convinces Dipper that getting a household pet is a good idea. Now, they just have to settle on one that’s safe enough for Dipper, and dangerous enough to amuse Bill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bill and Dipper Go Pet Shopping

**Author's Note:**

> I originally posted this on tumblr as a small text post/headcanon. It got a positive response, so I figured I'd type it out! Sorry for the lame ass title. This fic exists in a universe where Bill can freely roam through other dimensions. Dipper is aged up as well, somewhere in his early 20’s, and they don’t live at the Mystery Shack. This oneshot got away from me, and I couldn’t be happier about it because I had a lot of fun. And let’s be serious, we all need something on the lighter side to get over the newest episode. Enjoy!

Four days.

Four measly fucking days is all it took for Dipper to finally give in. It usually took longer than that for Dipper to give in to Bill’s poorly thought out ideas, but Dipper blamed it on the fact that it wasn’t that bad of a request and he really, _really_ wanted Bill to shut up about it. That, and the last conversation they had about it left a bad taste in his mouth that had his face and whole mind wrinkling in discomfort.

“But the house is so _boring_ with Shooting Star gone,” Bill had whined, falling dramatically into Dipper’s lap, arms and legs sprawled as wide as possible. Dipper had lifted his magazine out of instinct right away, having gotten used to Bill randomly falling onto him.

When Dipper didn’t respond, Bill reached up and began patting his face to get Dipper’s attention, occasionally pushing his cheeks together and cackling to himself. Dipper resisted the urge to give Bill the angered response he wanted, eye twitching.

“We don’t need a pet. You’d probably just toy with it anyway, and I’m not subjecting anyone or anything else to you,” he replied, lifting his magazine out of Bill’s reach when he made a grab for it. He wasn’t reading it anymore because of Bill distracting him, but it was the principal that mattered.

“Aw, but you like it when I toy with you, don’t ya Pine Tree?” Bill rested his chin on his balled up fists, trying and failing to look innocent.

Dipper scoffed and tried to repress the heat crawling up his neck. It was probably useless to try, since Bill could probably hear his heartbeat speeding up, but Earth be damned if he wasn’t going to try anyway. “First, I’m not a pet, and second, no I don’t.” Dipper knew exactly what Bill was going to say as soon as his mouth opened, so he cut him off with a sharp, “Don’t.” Bill deflated immediately.

Bill lifted himself off of Dipper’s lap, ignoring the grunt he let out when Bill nearly hit him in the crotch. He settled himself on the floor between Dipper legs, watching the TV idly. Bill liked muting the TV and coming up with his own dialog for the characters on screen. Dipper had to admit that Bill’s dialog was way more amusing than what they were actually saying.

“Hmmm,” Bill hummed, resting his head against the inside of Dippers thigh. On impulse, Dipper let his right hand tangle in Bill’s blond hair, slowly working out the knots. Bill let out another more pleasured hum in response. Good lord, it was ridiculous how domestic they had gotten. Bill had called it sickening before, but Dipper knew there was no real heat to the words.

What Bill said next made Dipper accidentally (well, almost accidentally) yank on his boyfriend’s hair.

“What about kids instead? …Hey, ow!” he complained at the rough yank, but Bill was grinning, looking over his shoulder at Dipper to see his reaction.

“We’re both guys, idiot,” Dipper said, Bill chuckling without abandon.

Bill turned around, learning back on his heels. He waved his hand in the air to emphasize his words. “Well, yanno, being a demon and all gives me free reign to do whatever the hell I want with this body, mortal world be damned. Or, not damned, because that’d be a good thing. Whatever. Anyway! I could definitely make one of those inside baby ovens for myself or you. Putting babies in ovens always sounded fun to me! Or we could do it the hard way. I’d just need to chop off some choice slabs of flesh from you and me, consult with a friend of mine, maybe make a deal or two, and voila! Baby mania!” Bill finishes by raising both of his arms in the air.

Dipper had never felt more nauseous in his life. He clutched at his stomach, face scrunched up in a mixture of horror and fear. Just thinking of whatever the hell Bill had just said made him want to throw himself off the nearest cliff.

He took a few minutes to calm himself, Bill poking at random areas of his body throughout his mild panic attack, and then sighs harshly. “Fine, we’ll get a pet.”

\--

At first, Bill _insisted_ that they go to one of the “pet” stores that his friend ran, and while Dipper was anxious about the idea, his curiosity got the better of him and he let Bill drag him through a portal that he created by slashing his cane through the air. Dipper hated these things, but he had almost gotten used to them.

Dipper regretted agreeing to it almost immediately. When they got to the other side and he managed to get his footing (and keep himself from throwing up), he screamed and lurched backwards, bumping into Bill’s chest. Before he knew what was happening, he was grabbing at Bill’s shirt, the man chuckling at the sight of him.

“Oh, Pine Tree, it’s just a little cruttle warg! Completely harmless as long as you keep away from its front side.”

Dipper stared in horror at the thing. It had a long, sectioned body that resembled a centipede, and before it had been curled up on itself, but seeing as Dipper had ran face first into its cage, it was now sitting up and hissing. And not from what he guessed was its mouth, but from its freaking _claws_. Dipper would never admit to whimpering.

Bill pried Dipper off of him, the man only letting go when he realized what he was doing. He straightened himself and his worn cap, trying to stave off the embarrassment. Bill just looked at him, a slightly fond look in his eyes that lasted about a second before it was gone.

“Well, you have fun looking around, kid,” Bill said, and Dipper almost wanted to correct him on his continued use of calling him “kid”, but he stopped himself. “I’m gonna chat up my old pal here. And don’t stick your fingers in any of the cages; some of these little guys can’t digest human.”

Bill turned and headed to the checkout desk, where a weird goblin-looking creature waved at him enthusiastically. This wasn’t Dipper’s first time travelling to a different dimension, but seeing monsters and demons everywhere still weirded him out, probably as much as it weirded them out seeing a human wandering about freely in their realm.

He wandered around, keeping a safe distance away from all of the cages. While most of the “pets” seemed calm, a few were very vocal. He went past monsters that screamed, hissed, spat, made odd chittering noises, sounded like they were dying, and one of them sounded like it was farting out of what Dipper thought was its mouth. 

The noises weren’t even the worst part. Dipper was almost sure that some of these would show up in his nightmares later. Bill’s friends were bad enough, but at least they were sentient, so he could eventually get over their appearance. Sure, a few had mistaken him as a meal, but Bill made sure that would never happen again by setting them on fire. These creatures were anything but sentient. At first glance, some of them seemed to resemble animals from his reality, but he would quickly discover that no, no way in hell is a toad supposed to turn inside out in order to absorb whatever liquid was in its bowl. And birds weren’t supposed to have teeth or three heads. There was so much wrong with every single one of these creatures that he didn’t know where to start. All he knew is that he wanted to get very, very far away from all of them.

Backing away from the side of the store with all the cages, he decided to peruse the area where the pet supplies were. Or, what he assumed were pet supplies, anyway. He had never seen anything on earth like what was in front of him, but at least they weren’t snapping or hissing at him. He occupied himself with trying to figure out what each individual toy was supposed to do, smiling when he figured some of them out. Eventually he stopped, on account of almost chopping his hand off with a literal laser pointer.

For a pet store, the place was pretty big, so he had plenty to occupy himself with while Bill made small talk. Bill could talk for hours about nothing if Dipper let him, but he couldn’t really blame the guy. After all, he always complained that most humans were boring to talk to (the exceptions being himself, Mabel, Ford, and on the rare occasion, Wendy).

Dipper came across a pen not unlike the ones for puppies that were often found in pet stores. Cautiously, he walked closer and was surprised by what he saw. Inside were tiny puffs of multi-colored fur that had small, matte black legs. They had three eyes, but that was probably the only off-putting thing about them. Huh. He never expected something this cute to exist in a place like this.

Dipper squinted his eyes at the sign on the pen which, surprisingly, was in a language Bill had taught him a little of. “Wa…warning… Not…to bite on… Safely glasses…?

Okay, maybe he still sucked at it, but he thought he got the gist of it. The “bite on” part was in a context that basically meant “not a snack”, so they wouldn’t be misunderstood as feed for another animal or (and Dipper shuddered at the thought), some sentient being in this realm.

The little puff creatures walked around, occasionally spinning around each other in some kind of dance. Dipper laughed a bit when two of them lost their footing and knocked into each other, catching the attention of one of them. It made a garbled squeaking noise and walked toward Dipper, staring at him.

Nothing in any of the realms Bill has taken him to has ever been one hundred percent safe, so he should have backed away, but the thing was so cute that he couldn’t help it. It was definitely preferable to the rest of the monsters in this place, and if he had to choose one of these miniature demons, it would probably be this one. 

The puff kept staring at him with large black eyes, warily coming closer to him. Dipper continued to stare at it, unable to look away. When it got within touching distance, his hand reached out almost on impulse. The puff looked at his hand, back up at him, and picked up its pace to get to him. His hand brushed the top of its head an—

“ _Pine Tree_!”

Dipper’s head shot up to see Bill striding towards him, hand recoiling from the pen. He heard the sound of snapping teeth from the pen, and looked back to see that the multicolored puffs had turned black, and the tops of their heads had split open to reveal a mouth of an impossible number of teeth. They began bouncing around the pen wildly, looking angered. Dipper let out a yell and took a few steps back.

“What the hell!”

Bill came to his side, snapped his fingers, and a large slab of _something_ appeared above the pen, dropping down in the middle of it. The black puffs descended on it immediately, tearing into the slab rabidly.

“And I thought I had taught you to read, kid,” Bill said, sounding disappointed. “Humans, I tell ya.”

Dipper looked behind him to see that he was addressing the man he had been talking to at the front desk. His face heated up in embarrassment. “Well, who puts things like these out in the open anyway!?”

Bill made a face at him. “They’re scrywens, kids. You try to put them in any kind of cage, and you’re lookin’ at creating a black hole bigger than Cygnus. I’m surprised they’re putting up with being in this pen.”

Dipper’s face grew even more horrified. He looked at the pet store owner. “And you sell them as _pets_?”

The owner shrugged, replying gruffly, “People like exotics these days. If I only sold lycreptors and greeyets, I’d go out of business. Gotta keep up with the fads.”

“Oookay, well, thanks for that info. I think we’re gonna leave now.” Dipper grabbed Bill’s hand and headed in the direction of the door.

“Hey! We haven’t even picked out anything yet,” Bill said behind him, obviously annoyed but following him anyway. When Dipper didn’t respond, Bill stopped and tightened his grip. “Dipper.”

The use of his name made him look back. When he did, he was surprised to see that Bill’s eyes had turned red, his slip pupils becoming sharper and more menacing.

Dipper sighed. “Look, I didn’t say we couldn’t still get a pet. Just not…you know, something that spits acid on us or that will kill us in our sleep or something.”

Bill looked thoughtful, one of his fingers tapping his chin. “Hm, okay, I’ll humor you. But if none of your mortal pets are interesting enough, we’re coming back. If you want something boring and safe, I think this guy is a perfect match for us.”

He jabbed his thumb at a large cage behind them. In it were a few lizard-looking creatures with almost human-looking hands and one eye. As one of the creatures passed another, its tongue leapt out of its mouth, capturing the smaller one and drawing it in. Dipper’s eye twitched.

\--

Five minutes upon entering one of the pet shops in town, and Dipper wanted to run out. Luckily he had more common sense than to leave Bill alone when he gave him full permission to buy a pet.

The employee that worked there was extremely enthusiastic about all the animals. So much that she had no problems with taking some of them out and letting Bill hold them (after she scolded him to sanitize properly, and Bill complied with surprisingly no argument). At first, Dipper was okay with that. Mabel may have been the bigger animal enthusiast, but Dipper loved animals as well.

They went to the small animals first. And sure, one of the hamsters bit him, but he had sustained way worse injuries in the past. The rest of the animals are extremely cute, and Dipper may have stayed a bit too long in the puppy pen, taking care to pet all of them for at least five minutes. He didn’t want to be unfair, after all.

Bill didn’t seem bored exactly, but Dipper could tell he was unimpressed so far. It was a little disappointing (Dipper had always wanted a dog), but it was exactly what he expected from Bill. 

When they moved on to the reptile room, that was when Dipper had the strong impulse to run. Snakes and bearded lizards were much better than the monstrosities from the previous pet store, but things will scales still made his skin crawl.

So, of course these were the ones that interested Bill the most.

He went from tank to tank, holding the ones that he was allowed to, grinning the entire time. He took a strong liking to the baby ball python, handing it to Dipper so he could read the information sheet aloud, getting more exciting with each fact he read.

“They can grow five feet long!” Bill exclaimed. “Not as impressive as something from my realm, but it’s more than I expected.”

Dipper stood completely still as the snake began winding around his neck. Luckily, the worker saw his discomfort and gently pried the python off of him. He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding as soon as he felt the snakes scales slither off of him.

“How much?” Bill asked.

Dipper immediately intersected, stiffly saying, “Um, how about we check out everything before making a decision, huh?”

“Good idea!” Bill agreed, striding off to the other end of the reptile room. The worker giggled, putting the snake back.

“I like him,” she said. “If he ever needs a job, send him my way.”

Dipper gave a noncommittal response, more concerned where his demonic boyfriend had scampered off to. He followed Bill’s excited inhale of air, and when he found him, he made sure he was _far_ from Bill’s reach. A crocodile. They sold freaking crocodiles at a local pet shop. Dipper immediately told him no, but Bill held the creature to his chest and glared, an ominous air about him. The thing was small and looked harmless enough, but he knew how big those things could get. Dipper was going to be screwed and stuck with a pet crocodile unless he thought of something.

He left Bill and the worker alone so he could think. He browsed all the tank that were still left, pausing at a few and thinking they may not be so bad. But as soon as he thought of one of them escaping, he immediately backpedaled.

His lip had been torn to pieces when he finally thought of something. He had been staring at one of the baby tortoises for about five minutes when the idea struck him. He bent down and clutched the sides of the tank, staring at the small reptile. “Thank you…” he said to it, maybe just a bit manic.

He turned the cage around so the information tag was on the other side, before pulling out his phone and calling Bill over. Bill looked annoyed at being beckoned, but Dipper ignored it.

“Here, read this,” he commanded, shoving his phone in Bill’s face. 

Bill swatted Dipper’s hands away, taking the phone and squinting at the words on the screen. Dipper had pulled up a Wikipedia page on snapping turtles. He prayed that Bill didn’t notice the difference in appearance. Bill made a few thoughtful sounds, before tossing the phone back at him. “Nope, I want the crocodile.”

Dipper tried to remain calm. He pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers, sighing loudly. “Okay, look, there is no way in hell that we’re getting that crocodile, so just work with me, okay?”

Bill crossed his arms, looking amused at his defiance. “Oh? And why should I? I thought you’d be happy. I actually like this scaly mortal beast!”

“They get bigger, you know.”

“Even better!”

Dipper threw his hands up in frustration. “We’re not getting the damn crocodile!”

Bill leaned over, flicking him in the forehead. “Maybe we aren’t, but _I_ am. I was going to get something either way, but figured I’d try to get your approval so I wouldn’t have to deal with your brooding.” He licked his lips. “You’re so much less pliant to do what I want when you get all emotional.”

Despite himself, Dipper shivered when Bill ran a finger down his neck.

“Buuut, now that I’ve seen it, I’ve decided. I’m getting it,” Bill finished, turning to walk away.

Dipper sputtered, thinking fast. “You know, snapping turtles get bigger too, right?”

Bill stopped and inclined his head toward him, seeming briefly interested.

He cheered in his small victory. “Crocodiles are a lot of work, and we’d have to buy and build a small living area with it, and it wouldn’t be able to be inside. It would basically just be decoration, and we wouldn’t be able to go in the backyard. A-And I know you like doing stuff out there.”

Bill turned fully now, hands on his hips, “Go on.”

“So, it’s small enough to keep in the house, it’s easier to take care of, and it’s still dangerous enough to not be boring. Plus, I know a few people that have crocodiles as pets. I’ve never heard of anyone with a snapping turtle as a pet.”

That last bit seemed to catch his attention, so Dipper continued on listing every random fact he’d ever learned about snapping turtles. Which wasn’t a lot, and maybe he exaggerated a bit and got some things wrong, but it was for the good of his mental health and sanity.

Eventually Bill tired of his blabbering and pinched his cheek, making Dipper slap his hand away. “Okay, Pine Tree, you’ve convinced me, we’ll get the snapper since you want it so badly. Hey, Mandy!”

When he was gone, Dipper slumped and took a large breath to calm himself. It worked. He could almost hear the chorus of cheers that were going off in his head. _Good job, Dipper_ , he congratulated himself.

So, they had Mandy (Dipper was surprised Bill had actually started calling her by name), help them with getting supplies for their new pet. Bill had asked about growth supplements, which made Mandy glare suspiciously at him. Luckily, Dipper was good at damage control when it came to Bill, and she ignored it. She also convinced Dipper into buying a few guides on tortoise care. By the time they were done, Dipper was sure they’d be eating nothing but garbage fast food for the next week to make up for the hefty bill.

Three weeks passed before Bill noticed anything. The man was poking the tortoise, who he had named Godzilla (and constantly patted himself on the back for his not-so-clever pop culture reference), trying to get him to clasp down on his finger. That’s when he noticed something was off. Dipper had stupidly laughed at Bill’s attempts, causing the demon to get up and place his hands on either side of the armchair Dipper was sitting in, trapping him in.

“Pine Tree,” he sang, “You wouldn’t ever lie to me, right?”

Dipper pressed himself into his seat, not missing the brief flash of red in Bill’s eyes. “Nope,” he lied.

“Good,” Bill had replied, and apparently he had had other motives for trapping Dipper, because he immediately descended on him, and Dipper was, for once, happy at the sudden assault. As long as Bill was temporarily distracted.

Another week passed after that, and then Bill had finally figured it out. A shit storm resulted. Bill was pissed at having been tricked, and Dipper just narrowly dodged a few fireballs that were thrown at him. They were small, and he was sure they’d _probably_ go out as soon as they hit him, but Bill seemed more pissed off than usual.

That went on for at least fifteen minutes, before Dipper retreated to the living room and ended up tripping over something. He fell face first into the carpet, and when he got up there was blood running down his face and onto his shirt.

When he turned around, Bill was in the doorway with a look of shock on his face. Dipper looked on in confusion. It wasn’t like this was the first time he’d ever gotten a bloody no—

And Dipper almost, almost ruined the moment by saying something, but caught himself. He looked on with wide eyes as Bill bent down, picked up ‘Zilla, and looked over the tortoise meticulously, looking worried.

When Bill looked up at Dipper, he was smiling fondly and holding his nose to stop the blood. “He okay?” Dipper asked gently.

Bill looked down, a slight flush tinting his cheeks. “Yeah,” he muttered. He got up slowly, ‘Zilla tucked in his arms gently, and brought him over to his tank.

Dipper waited as Bill tapped his foot on the carpet, still turned away from Dipper. He was aware that he was still smiling, but he couldn’t help himself. Eventually, Bill turned around, glare firmly set on his face.

“This one is boring, but it’s not that bad, so I won’t light him on fire. When this thing dies though, I get to pick the next one.”

Dipper’s grin broadened, perfectly happy to accept those terms. “Deal.”

After all, it wasn’t his fault Bill didn’t look up the lifespan of tortoises, right?

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if you notice any glaring typos! :u Thanks for reading!


End file.
